


okonomiyaki, extended edition

by kanames_harisen



Category: Naruto
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanames_harisen/pseuds/kanames_harisen
Summary: // okonomiyaki - a savory grilled pancake; see also - the implement of Kakashi’s torment //(my abandoned story, reposted with 20% more smut)





	1. fire up the griddle

**Author's Note:**

> I deleted this story from ff.net and abandoned it on here a few years ago when my kids discovered my pen name. Now they're adults and have either forgotten their dear old mom writes fanfiction or no longer care, so I have decided I'd like to repost my mature fics. The original version remains in AO3's orphan account, of course. But I felt like the additional content I added to the second chapter before I reposted it to ff.net also deserved to have a place here.
> 
> The entire story has been freshly edited for grammar and consistency.

** **

**.oOo.**  
_Don't pull those strings like that  
_ _You're moving a little fast  
_ _And I'm out of practice_

– You Got Me Down by Lorien –  
**.oOo.**

**.**

**.**

**{ 67 days before the Fourth Shinobi War }**

Kakashi sits on a stool at the far left of the tall countertop. Sure, there are several booths scattered around the small shop, few of which are currently occupied, and they have cushioned benches with high, supporting backs. Not anything elaborate, mind you, but definitely more comfortable than the hard, tipsy seat that he has chosen to park his ass on. He looks to one side and then the other, contemplating for a moment. The cooktop in the middle of each table mocks him. Nope, a booth is not worth it. Besides, he's not old enough yet to let the promise of physical comfort sway his decisions.

He lets his innate laziness do that instead.

He turns back around, gives the man behind the counter his order – _a double of whatever the hell you want to put on it; really, sir, I'm not picky _– and opens his book. The sharp sizzle of batter on the hot surface rises to join the rest of the ambient sound, accompanied by the smells of savory vegetables, grilled seafood, and a liberal amount of oil. It's a little warm inside due to the large ratio of heated surfaces to air, but not enough to stifle or make him break out in a sheen of perspiration. In its own small way, it's soothing – the familiar sounds and smells, the atmosphere and laid-back patrons. The shop is located off of one of the backstreets of Konoha, in an area that straddles the line between the affluent and seedier parts of town, and it rarely gets traffic from outsiders. It's quiet in contrast to the bustle of Ichiraku's, and that makes it prime real estate in Kakashi's mind. It doesn't hurt that they make the best okonomiyaki in all of the Land of Fire.

Kakashi holds that secret close to his vest, though. His mental peace and his ability to give certain acquaintances the slip count on it.

After a few minutes and several pages of blissfully uninterrupted reading, the cook plops a plate under Kakashi's nose. The meal is served with just a brief nod and half-smile, the only customer service the man has time for before he turns back to the grill to work on the next set of orders. Kakashi breathes in the delicious steam wafting up to greet his nose. His fingers curl around the top of his mask in anticipation. He is about to tug it down to enjoy his meal when a conversation somewhere to his right has him rethinking the action.

"Seriously?" Sakura asks, her green eyes wide with incredulous wonder, triggering a chorus of similar exclamations from others at the table. "That's terrible, Pig! What did you do?"

Ino flips her hair, and her mouth twists into a devilish smirk. "What do you think? I kicked him in the balls. Twice."

"Oh, poor Kiba!"

"Don't feel sorry for him, Hinata," a dark-haired girl – he's pretty sure the kunoichi is Gai's student – asserts with an edge to her warm voice. "He's lucky that she didn't neuter him. Stupid mutt."

The four girls giggle at her silly play on words and continue on. They're too involved with their own little world to bother him.

Kakashi shakes his head, an amused expression playing with his lips under his mask. It's good to see Sakura smiling and happy and acting like a normal teenager for once. Granted, he hasn't been around much lately. His missions have been different from Team Kakashi's and Yamato has by and large taken over Kakashi's position on his own team. But over the years he has seen too many circumstances eat away at her, weigh her down.

The fast-approaching war is a concern too. Kakashi knows all too well how much a person can lose and how that can make a person change. She's only sixteen, far too young to become all serious and jaded like him. He frowns and glances back at the girl. Her face is bright with mirth as she sharply digs her elbow into Ino's side, laughing at her friend's disgruntled expression. He briefly hopes that she can keep it, whatever it is that allows her face to light up like that. Then for a second time, he shakes his head, this time to expel his thoughts.

It's too early in the day, never mind that it's well into the afternoon, to let his mind travel down that road.

With a shrug, he turns back to his plate and makes a mental note to speak to Sakura about keeping this little dive to herself. The last thing he needs is her dragging Naruto here to pollute the place with his noise and undiscerning taste buds and his snooping ways.

"Check please, Mr. Yamada!" Sakura's voice, lilting with cheer and contentment, raises to attract the shopkeeper's attention. She slides onto the stool next to his while she waits, nudging Kakashi with her elbow. "Hey, Sensei."

"Sakura," he drawls.

"It's been a while."

"It has."

"Well, I just wanted you to– oh, wait a minute." She pauses to rummage in the pocket of her vest for her money. After she's paid for her meal, the girl turns back to him. A pink blush dusts her cheeks, but she's grinning widely. "I miss you, you know. Well, _we _miss you. The team's not the same without you."

Kakashi isn't sure what to say to that. He has failed them – _failed her _– so much over the years that he had been positive they would welcome his absence. Eventually, he settles for a non-committal, "I'll see what I can do."

"Good," she answers. She starts to walk away, but she looks over her shoulder before she gets too far. "And don't worry, Sensei. I won't tell Naruto about this place."

Then she's gone, leaving him to wonder how the hell she had known what he was thinking.

_Just a coincidence_, he decides after a couple seconds. _It's Naruto, after all._

With a growling stomach, he turns back to his meal. Kakashi shoves his chopsticks in his mouth, no longer concerned about dropping the mask, and chews on the too-large bite he has scooped up.

_Damn_.

He let his food get cold.

**{ 1826 days after the Fourth Shinobi War }**

The door opens abruptly, his only warning a quick precursory knock. Kakashi raises his head slightly from his reclined position to identify the visitor while keeping his face firmly behind his reading material. What he sees leaves his mouth agape under the cover of his mask.

_This_, he thinks to himself, _is unexpected._

The same medic, a wiry old woman who no longer cared about following protocol, has been performing his physicals for the past… well, he's not quite sure, but he knows it's been a long time. Kakashi doesn't know if she has been the only one willing to put up with his crap or if Tsunade has forced the job on her, but he supposes it doesn't really matter. She is the reason why he has been willing to keep these appointments in the first place. Her half-assed examinations suited his I-don't-want-a-check-up agenda nicely; a win-win situation, really. But now she is not here.

In the old hag's place is a much younger medic. He knows this newcomer well, but Kakashi finds himself suddenly lost because the image he has of her in his head does not match what his eye is registering. Maturity has filled in and softened her curves, taking what was once a girl's body and transforming it to that of a woman. The jaunty skirt and top uniform of yesteryear are gone. A simple crimson dress takes its place, just shy of knee-length and made of supple fabric, and it clings to her silhouette before flaring gently at her hips.

_Has it really been that long since I've seen her?_

The changes he sees throws his world off-kilter. Sakura should not be that grown-up. Or that old. Or that... developed. She is supposed to be a little girl, not some attractive, sexy, more-than-of-age woman. She is not supposed to–

His gaze, which has been traveling down her body, finally lands on her feet and he grins in relief.

The black, heavily worn boots are still the same.

Kakashi doesn't know why that fact comforts him. Maybe it's because in them he can still see the student she once was, rather than the woman now making his pulse race. Perhaps it's because they remind him that not all that much has really changed – she's still Sakura, and he's still himself. Of course, it could just be that he remembers her kicking the hell out of Naruto with them – _really, the blond deserved it for not keeping his perversion safely in his own head_ – and that image never fails to make him smile. Regardless of the reason, seeing them makes him feel at home amidst the strangeness of the situation.

A not-so-subtle clearing of a feminine throat halts his thoughts and diverts his attention from those wonderful little boots back up to her face. The medic narrows her gaze at his clothed form, where he lounges across the exam table. She cracks the thick spine of his medical file open on the countertop of the small supply cabinet and gestures at him with marked disapproval.

"Take them off," Sakura says, her tone professional and unwavering. Then she turns away from him.

Most people would probably believe that the action was one of courtesy. Maybe it is. But he has a feeling it has much more to do with her need to be efficient. Sakura seems the type to want to get a problematic patient out the door as quickly as possible so she can help others that are more open to her assistance. Why take the time to watch him strip, especially under this context, when she could be getting the exam materials ready? Kakashi decides to test that theory – _after all, he has a reputation to uphold; he's practically obligated to make this difficult for her_ – by removing his clothing as slowly as he possibly can. If he can get her frustrated enough, maybe she'll just send him on his way.

Her presence has been messing with his head since she walked in anyway. Turnabout is only fair.

When Sakura turns back to face him, he's only just shrugged out of his flak vest, leaving it in a pile by his shoes and thigh holster. A frown tugs downwards at her lips, and she crosses her arms over her chest. But she doesn't say anything. Instead, she leans back against the cabinet and watches as he rolls his shirt lazily up and then over his head. Next comes his mesh undershirt and, with some reluctance on his part, his ever-present mask. He removes both at the same languid pace as the other pieces. Keeping his eyes on her face, Kakashi moves his fingers to the button of his trousers. He is disappointed by her lack of reaction; honestly, he had expected something. But neither her face nor her body language gives anything away – no blush or soft gasp, no avoidance in her eyes. Everything about her demeanor exudes boredom. He pauses, hesitating for a moment before he pulls down the zipper, millimeter by slow millimeter. Then she smirks and shakes her head.

"Are you done with the show yet, Kakashi?" she asks, the green of her eyes twinkling with humor. "I'm the hospital's head medic. Have been for two years, you know. Trust me when I say that you don't have anything I haven't seen before. It's going to take a lot more than that to affect me."

Kakashi lets his pants drop unceremoniously and kicks them to the side, giving up the gambit. Then he decides on another course of action. "You know, Doctor Haruno, I'd really feel more comfortable with my regular medic."

"Oh, I'm sure you would. But unfortunately, Miyako retired seven months ago. None of the other medics could be persuaded to take you as a patient. Apparently, you've been quite… troublesome."

"Yeah, I have," he rubs the back of his neck, feigning a sheepishness that he doesn't feel, "and I don't want to trouble my favorite former student, so I'll just be–"

"Oh no, you won't," Sakura counters, sharp and demanding. "You haven't had a proper exam in at least five years. I've read your file, so don't even try to argue. Now park your ass on the exam table, Kakashi, or I will be forced to use restraints."

He sighs loudly, dramatically, and then does as he's told. Sakura always has been particularly stubborn. And bossy. The argument that would inevitably ensue is just not worth it.

Her hand grasps his wrist, and her thumb pushes into the pulse point. She counts the seconds on the clock by the pounding of his blood through his veins. Sakura's skin is dry and chapped, no doubt due to the frequent washings associated with her line of work, and the friction of it on his skin sends tingles up his arm. But if she notices, she doesn't say anything. After sixty seconds, she abruptly drops the appendage and turns away to fill in the results on the top-most page of his chart.

Sakura returns with a lighted tool, a small cone-shaped flashlight, and proceeds to poke and prod at his face. Nothing is safe from her investigation – _his ears and nose and mouth_ – and while he hates it on principle, he has to admit that there is something about her touch that makes it almost tolerable.

_Not to mention, she smells familiar and vaguely… delicious?_

Kakashi shakes his head, a rough and jerky movement meant to rid his head of the unwanted thoughts. With an irritated click of her tongue, Sakura grabs his chin firmly. Then she goes on to thoroughly check both of his eyes. When he complains about being blinded, she chides him as if he was a child – _don't be such a baby, it's not that bad_ – and lightly slaps his shoulder. Again, she writes down all her findings.

"Okay, you need to lie down now."

Kakashi thinks about refusing, or at least putting up a little resistance, but the look on her face crushes his plans before they are more than half-formed. He's seen what happens when people – _Naruto, Sai, Sasuke… Naruto_ – challenge her. A stay in the emergency room is not worth his pride.

"Don't even think about it," she says, interrupting his not-quite scheming as if she knows exactly what was going on inside his head.

_I'm getting too transparent in my old age_, he thinks.

"Don't you trust your old sensei?" he asks instead.

Sakura snorts and pushes him roughly in the chest, forcing him to recline. "Not likely."

The warmth of her chakra runs over him in small increments, from head to toe and back again. He watches her concentrate, and he can see his old injuries in the different ways she wrinkles her brow and the shifting set of her lips. Kakashi has scars inside and out. It's just the reality of being a shinobi, especially one who has seen as much action as he has.

Especially one that is still alive.

Sakura finishes her scan, but she doesn't turn immediately away to his file this time. Her hands drop onto his abdomen, the weight of them grounding him, and she looks Kakashi directly in the eye.

"Be more careful out there," she says. "Medic's orders."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No." Shaking her head, she sighs and turns away, grey lead further marking up the page. "No, but if you keep this up, I won't be able to say that next time. You've got a lot of scar tissue, and most of it is on the inside of your body. In our line of work, it's often what you can't see that's more dangerous." Cocking her head so she can see him over her shoulder, Sakura smirks widely. "You're just showing your age, old man."

"Funny," Kakashi retorts, crossing his arms defensively. He's not that old, after all.

She laughs, amused by his discomfort, "Only because it's true."

He lays back down, and the cold pleather of the table bites into his skin without the barrier of his clothing to protect him or her chakra to warm him. The hospital is always a little on the cool side. Supposedly the lower temperature helps to prevent the growth of bacteria and the spread of viruses. Kakashi thinks it's just one more way to make patients miserable, but he does his best to ignore it and opens his book. It's not the most uncomfortable thing he's ever had to deal with, not by a longshot. Barely more than a sentence in and his concentration is disrupted by a small clatter. The sharp click resounds through the small room, reverberating against the stark white walls, and Sakura lets out a frustrated exclamation. "Oh, shit."

He sits up to see what her cursing is about, but he regrets it instantly. Sakura is on her hands and knees, ass high in the air, trying to retrieve something from underneath the cabinet. The sight is one that Kakashi knows he should not be indulging in, but he cannot turn away. Sakura redoubles her efforts, wiggling and shifting her knees farther apart to lower her base, utterly unaware of the image she is creating. Half hard, Kakashi stifles a groan and forces himself to close his eyes.

"Sakura," he grinds out between clenched teeth, "what are you doing?"

"I dropped my damn pencil." Her reply is muffled and unsteady, accented by pants of breath from her exertion. "Wait, wait… I got it!"

She rises off the floor in triumph, all fluid muscle and graceful limbs, and brushes at the dust on her knees. Pink has settled into the apples of her cheeks, and a light sheen of sweat covers her skin. It sends his mind to terribly inappropriate places like, if she looks like this now just think about how she'd look in the afterglow of…

_Fuck_, his rational side screams. _Does Sakura even know what she's doing?_

The crack of latex, stretched thin and then released, rings in his ears, not once but twice. Sakura leans against the countertop and flexes her fingers, driving them fully into a pair of sterile medical gloves. Her expression is placid, but there is a glint in her eye that Kakashi fears does not bode well for him. The next words that fall from her lips confirm it.

"Those need to go," she demands, and the edges of her lips curl ever so slightly on the last syllable. "I have to check for hernias. Now stand up and drop your drawers."

"And if I refuse?" He's stalling, and probably to no avail, but it's the only play he has left. Sakura's holding all the cards – _his health, his livelihood, his suddenly resurging libido _– and all he can do is hope she doesn't realize it.

"I have my ways," Sakura says, pushing off of the cabinet and stepping towards him. "Stand up."

Kakashi relents, drawn in by the low purr in her voice, which he may or may not have imagined. At this point, he's no longer sure of much except that his bare feet are planted on the cold floor and Sakura is standing very, very close. She looks him in the eye one last time, a single pink eyebrow rising in challenge. He makes no move to remove his last piece of clothing.

"Fine. You want to play it that way?"

Kakashi says nothing back, just returns her gaze with a steadiness he does not feel.

A single slender finger hooks into the waistband of his underwear, pulling it away from his body, just enough to properly expose him. Then Sakura's opposite hand slides inside and cups around his balls. The suddenness of her action nearly buckles him, but he tries to play it off by cloaking himself in his customary aloof façade. One look at her face tells him it was unsuccessful; she's wearing a knowing grin.

"Turn your head and cough," Sakura instructs as she bends down, half crouched in front of him.

Kakashi rubs a hand roughly over his face, torn between mortification and arousal, but complies. This has been the most awkward check-up of his entire life, and he is ready for it to just be over, preferably without any physical complications. He steels his mind and brings up the most unappealing images he can conjure.

_Green spandex…_

_Gai and Lee in green spandex…_

_Gai and Lee in green spandex embracing…_

It works, and he is thankful. The last thing he needs is to give Sakura the wrong impression – _that kind of impression_. It's not like she knows what she's doing to him. This is all just a job for her.

Besides, there's only so much imaginary green spandex a mind can handle before it breaks.

After a few short moments that feel interminably long, the clinical squeezing and prodding stop. Kakashi is about to breathe a sigh of relief, but it catches in his throat instead. Sakura leans towards him, just a tiny insignificant inch. Yet, it's enough to fill his nostrils with her delectable scent and to feel her body heat radiate. The faint touch of smooth rubber traces the underside of his cock as she very slowly removes her hand and releases his underwear with a snap. He winces, the bite of the elastic painful against the erection that her last bit of touching has coaxed out of him. Then she turns on her heel, pulling off the gloves as she walks away from him.

"Congratulations, Kakashi, you pass. You're healthy enough to work another year." Sakura tosses the used latex in the waste bin and gathers up his medical file and her pencil. She pauses just inside the door, a hand on the chrome curve of the handle, and smiles sweetly. "And I win."

Confused, he forces out a barely audible, "Win?"

"Yep. I got to see you unmasked first."

The door clicks shut behind her, and one thought burns through his brain.

Sakura knows precisely what she is doing.

**{ 1829 days after the Fourth Shinobi War }**

"Come on, Sensei, don't be such a tease," she whispers in his ear. "I know you've got something for me."

He hardens under her fingers, which have slid down, down, down over his stomach. They grip his length through the material of his pants. Her body, with her soft breasts and full _oh-please-fuck-me hips_, presses firmly into his own and he barely holds back his groan. She smells so damn good – _the light sweetness of flowers, natural feminine musk, and an underlying bit of something savory that he can't quite place_ – and all he can think about is how much he'd like to taste her skin. But everything about the situation is so very wrong, and his mind knows it. His body doesn't want to listen, though.

It doesn't care that she's almost young enough to be his daughter._  
__("Almost," it screams at him, "makes all the difference.")_

It doesn't care that she is his former student._  
__("It's been years. No one cares anymore.")_

And it doesn't care about the possible repercussions of such a tryst._  
__("She's the one coming on to us. If she doesn't mind, why should we?")_

It's taking every bit of willpower he has to maintain control, to keep his hands to himself.

To stop himself from bending her over the table and roughly–

"I know." She sucks his earlobe into her mouth, rolling it over her tongue. With a couple nips of her teeth, she releases it and leans even closer. Her grip on his cock tightens. "Maybe the bad, bad patient wants me to use the restraints?"

He is gone now, his brain retreating to the far dark corners of his consciousness, and his body takes over.

Hands grab the back of her thighs and hoist her up, fingers digging into the smooth, smooth skin under that sexy red dress. She wraps her arms around his neck and her lean legs around his middle to steady herself, to pull herself closer. He closes his eyes to better feel the physical sensations bombarding him, reveling in them. Burying his nose into her neck, he breathes in deeply. The scent muddles his head further, but he's finally at the point that he just doesn't give a damn. He steps forward suddenly, pushing her back into the wall, and shoves a knee between her legs. Shifting her weight to rest on his leg, he removes one of the hands supporting her to tug at his mask. It takes a couple attempts – _the adrenaline thrumming through his body makes his fingers clumsy_ – but the unwanted barrier is flung across the room. Then his mouth is on her neck, his tongue lapping at the flesh over her pulse.

"Delicious," he sighs into her ear.

She keens, a small sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp, and rolls her hips. He can feel her through their clothes, already wet and ready, and instinct has him mirroring her movement. A spark of sensation curls deep in his belly, hot and needy, and sends a trail of pleasure up his spine. His internal switch has been flipped. He wants her so fucking badly now – _wants to release his cock, shove her panties to the side, and impale her while they're both still mostly clothed_ – that it is becoming physically painful. He is about to put that plan into action when she slides her feet to the ground and removes her hands from around his neck.

"Oh, don't look so sad, Sensei," she says in response to the conflicted expression he's sure is plastered across his face. Pushing firmly against one shoulder, she rotates them so that his back is the one at the wall. "It's been too long since you've had a thorough exam. You do want a proper check-up, don't you?"

He doesn't know what to say or where this is going. But Sakura's undoing his trousers, so he nods and hopes it will be enough of an answer.

"Good," she cheerfully replies.

Her hands work the button and zipper quickly, before sliding his bottoms – _pants and underwear together_ – slowly down. She stops when they reach mid-thigh and looks up at him, a sly grin playing with her mouth. She's on her knees and taking him fully into her mouth before he has time to realize her intentions. He groans loudly, and she hums her approval around his cock. His legs go weak, and he is thankful that she had the foresight to switch their places. The back of his head rests against the hard surface behind him, and he closes his eyes, giving in to her ministrations. His hands find their way to her shoulders, trailing up to tangle in her cherry-colored hair. He pulls her head forward and back, again and again, helping her establish a more urgent rhythm.

He's so close.

"Sakura," he growls, "Sakura, I'm going to–"

.

.

.

Kakashi startles awake, his breath coming out in harsh puffs. It takes him a few seconds to become aware of his surroundings, his mind still lingering on the edges of unconsciousness. He sits up, but it's uncomfortable due to his morning wood.

_Must have been some dream_, he thinks.

Looking around, he realizes that he has fallen asleep on his sofa. The latest volume of Icha Icha is on the floor where it slid out of his hand in the middle of the night and a mostly eaten container of food – _his Friday night regular, okonomiyaki _– is still on his coffee table. Despite the general consensus of his peers, Kakashi is not a lazy slob. He just likes to take the path of least resistance. There's no one else to clean up after him around his apartment – _no one to trick into service _– so he hates to let things pile up. It's the one place where he takes care of issues in a timely fashion. If he left food out, he must have been more tired than he thought.

He leans over to grab the container, but he pauses mid-motion when the scent hits his nose.

_An underlying bit of something savory that he can't quite place…_

It rushes back to him, the reasons for this particular erection.

_Sakura_.

Kakashi droops into the worn cushions at his back. His head drifts backward, and he surveys the ceiling, deep in thought. He should take a cold shower now. He knows he should because jerking off to the images running through his brain right now is definitely a bad thing. He knows this, but he is still conflicted. Rubbing a hand over his face, rough with day-old stubble, Kakashi contemplates.

_Fuck it_, he decides. _Sakura's the one who came on to me_.

Kakashi stalks to the bathroom, stripping as he goes. He turns the water on, the temperature as hot as he can stand to have it. The shower beats into his back, reddening his skin more with each passing second. But he doesn't care.

He presses his forehead against the cold tile of the stall and lays one hand adjacent to help keep him balanced. The other wraps around the stiffness between his legs. Kakashi hisses at the contact, but just squeezes harder, bucking into his hand. His rhythm is rough and demanding, bringing him to the precipice in very little time. All the while, he thinks about her wicked little mouth, of how hot it had felt in his dream. Of how her hair had felt so soft in his fingertips.

_Of how much he just fucking wanted her_.

Kakashi comes hard, imagining that it is her lips around him instead of his hand, and his vision blurs for a moment. He drops to his knees, letting the water run through his hair and into his eyes, and thinks about the mess he just made.

_Dammit_.


	2. and pour the batter, yeah

**.oOo.**  
_You talk to me without moving your mouth  
_ _And I can't help but speak_

_\- You Got Me Down by Lorien -**  
**_ **.oOo.**

**.**

**.**

**{ 1842 days after the Fourth Shinobi War }**

Kakashi kicks off the wall with a sigh, closing his orange-bound book. It's dark out, the moon barely a sliver in its waning cycle. The weak light of the lanterns strung haphazardly over the storefronts is scarcely sufficient to read by. It is certainly not enough to allow him to enjoy a masterpiece like Icha Icha, so there's nothing left to aid his procrastination. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he levels one last glare at the building he has been staking out before schooling his features into their customary disinterested arrangement. Then he saunters across the street.

It isn't long before he can smell it, a mere half-dozen paces, and then he is faced with the challenge of controlling more than just his face. He further slows his lazy stride and trains his mind on revolting green spandex. Kakashi has avoided coming here over the past couple weeks, though not because he has developed a sudden dislike for their signature dish. It is quite the opposite, actually. His craving for it is powerful, but he has been unable to fill it.

Oh, he has tried. Twelve days ago, in fact. But as soon as the appetizing scent reached his sensitive nose, something popped up that he had no choice but to go home and take care of. Since then, the man has been entertaining the thought about finding a sucker to pick up an order for him. But each time, after some consideration, Kakashi dismisses the idea. Everyone he knows is too fucking nosy, and he doesn't want to expend the extra effort to fabricate a believable lie.

Instead, he goes for a walk every evening. And every night he just happens to walk down the same street that old man Yamada's shop is located on. It's become something of a game, seeing how close he can get before the reaction begins. As of last night, he has managed to make it to the door. Hopefully, all the progress he's made in desensitizing himself has worked. He felt fucking pathetic, getting a boner from something like this.

_It's all because of those dreams_, he thinks. _Damn inconvenience_.

Kakashi opens the door and shivers, despite the warmth in the air. The hair rises on his arms and neck in anticipation, prickling his flesh. He mentally shakes them off, refocusing his mind on his mission. Outwardly, he rubs the back of his neck and moves towards the counter. His distraction is so great, his senses so bombarded, that he is sliding onto a stool before he registers her presence.

"Hey, Kakashi."

Sakura greets him cheerfully, but even through his addled thoughts, he can tell that something is off. She is alone, nothing but a cup and a pot of tea for company. It's incongruent with her appearance. Her little black dress is flirting with the line between modest and suggestive – the front revealing the barest hint of cleavage, while the back nearly exposes the whole of her spine – and her hair is swept off her neck in a simple twist. Clearly, she's expecting to meet someone, most likely a date. Kakashi's heart clenches uncomfortably at the thought, and he's not sure if the pain is brought on by anger or disappointment. It's better this way anyway. Seeing her with someone else will surely cure his current infatuation, right?

If she became unavailable, would the image of that dark lacy cloth sliding off her shoulders, revealing young, perky breasts, still run through his head? Would he imagine the feel and weight of them in his own hands or the way she would moan under his care? Would he picture Sakura in the nurse uniform from Tactics, using her medical expertise to make the chakra running through his cock vibrate as he thrust in and out, in and–

She nudges him with the toe of her unpractical, sexy shoes, signaling that he has been quiet for too long. The action causes him to look down, following the elegant line of her leg to the junction where it crosses over the other.

_Too much skin_, he thinks as he groans under his breath. _Too many terrible__, tempting ideas._

"Sakura," he finally responds.

She laughs and shakes her head. "You never change, do you?"

He bites his tongue just in time to hold back a retort – _no, but you have; Kami, how you have _– and instead looks back at the grill.

"Here for your Friday special?" she asks as she adjusts her position, uncrossing and then re-crossing her limbs.

"Huh?" Kakashi tugs at the top of his shirt, her actions making him hot and bothered and all sorts of other things that he did not want to be at that particular moment. Sakura and her damn legs and shifting hemline are not making it easy for him. Still, he regains enough composure to add, "Oh… No. Yeah… Well, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah, Iruka is injured. Some fire jutsu incident at the academy yesterday. He's tired of hospital food and called in a favor. I'm not here for me." Kakashi gestures to her, careful to keep his eyes on hers, lest she call him out on his wandering stare. Or worse, he finds something more to fuel his fantasies and bring about inappropriate reactions. He is in control for now, but he can feel it slipping. "And you?"

"Me? Well, I've been stood up." Sakura flushes pink, though whether it's in anger or embarrassment, he's unsure. "Ino and I were supposed to be on a _girls' night out. _Kind of a _fuck you, Valentine's Day _thing, since both of us are single. Or were single, I should say. Apparently, she ran into Sai on the way here, and she somehow managed to get her claws into him. She didn't even have the courtesy of telling me in person. The pig had him send an ink rat to relay the message. A rat! And the whole night was her fucking idea. I cannot believe that damn bit–" Sakura cuts off mid-sentence, eyes wide. Her lips crease into a familiar smirk as she mutters about insufferable, meddlesome best friends. She covers her eyes, shakes her head, and chuckles softly. "I know what this is."

Kakashi isn't sure he likes the expression on Sakura's face or that he wants to know the answer, but he asks anyway. "What?"

She crosses her arms in triumph. "This is a set-up."

"What?" he repeats.

"Seriously, Kakashi, keep up." Sakura rolls her eyes and leans towards him. "Ino and Iruka have conspired against us."

He stares at her, skeptical. "To what end exactly?"

Her head drops forward, and she groans into her palms. Then she looks askance at him, studying him with her cheek cradled in her hand. Sakura straightens in her seat slowly, vertebra by vertebra settling into place, and her eyes widen with understanding. "Kami, you really are as oblivious as Ino says you are."

Kakashi doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say.

It's true, of course. As a shinobi, Kakashi has always been perceptive, able to easily decipher what's underneath the underneath. But in his personal life, he's aloof. It's not because he doesn't care. He just doesn't know how to deal with the intimacies of a real relationship, romantic or otherwise. Once the emotions reach down into a person's bones – _when it's suddenly about living life instead of doling out death_ – he can no longer read them. He's never had a proper incentive to cultivate that skill. Besides, Kakashi knows he carries around too much baggage for the average person to handle.

Like Genma once said, "Good at the surface social stuff, bad at anything more."

Sakura throws a couple coins on the counter and spins around on the stool so that she's facing him. The click of her shoes on the hard ground gets his attention. She's standing close again, like the day in the clinic, but the atmosphere is entirely different. As Sakura hovers over him, Kakashi can feel the tension in her body vibrate, and he's sure that she's going to throw a punch, even if it's unclear to him why she would want to in the first place. He's surprised when instead she merely speaks softly into the space between them.

"Ino's been talking with Iruka a lot lately, you know. She's interested in taking on her own genin squad next year." Sakura tucks her clutch under her arm and takes a couple steps towards the door. She pauses, giving him a prolonged view of her back, and then raises her voice slightly. "And Iruka doesn't even like okonomiyaki."

Her heels tap out a rhythm across the shop floor, like the brisk beat of a countdown, as she continues on her way.

It only takes him three seconds more to contemplate the meaning of her words before Kakashi is rushing out the door after her, cursing under his breath.

_Dammit_.

**.oOo.**

Sakura is already halfway down the block when he catches up to her. Desperate, he pulls her by the arm into the relatively private space between the nearby buildings. She spins and turns deftly – an evasive maneuver that Kakashi didn't know was in her arsenal – wrenching her arm from his grasp and redirecting his weight so that his back is in a collision course for the wall. Kakashi manages to counter the surprise attack just before he makes contact, switching their places and pinning her against the rough concrete with his body. A soft cry of discomfort leaves her lips – _not quite pain, but close_ – and he belatedly remembers the plunging line of the back of her dress. Kakashi takes a half step back, immediately regretting his actions.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi says simply. He feels out of place and unsure, so he sticks his hands in his pockets and looks to the ground.

"I lied to you," Sakura confesses, ignoring his apology altogether.

"Wait," he starts with a frown, disoriented by the sudden change in their trajectory, and raises his head to consider her words carefully. "What did–?"

"Shut up," she interrupts. Then Sakura glares at him, the glint in her eyes and the line of her mouth both hard. It does little to disguise the uncertainty in her voice. "Just shut up and listen, okay?"

Kakashi nods his assent, his curiosity piqued in spite of the apparent frustration – _or anger or whatever_ – she is directing towards him at the moment. This type of situation, the kind where he forced to face another's negative feelings, is something he avoids typically with all his might. He could easily give Sakura the slip and be on his merry way. But it's not often that someone can deceive him without him realizing that something is untrue about their words or actions. He certainly has never had suspicions of dishonesty from Sakura.

Besides, he's still confused as hell about what happened at the restaurant. Of their most recent encounters, actually. If letting her speak her piece will clarify any of what is going on between them, Kakashi's all for it. Then maybe they can go back to being whatever they were before, and he won't wake up with a dream induced erection every morning.

_Or maybe we can move into a new kind of relationship_, his brain supplies against his will, _and she can use that saucy little mouth to suck–_

"Miyako didn't retire, okay?" Sakura blurts out, cutting off his inner monologue. "I saw your name on the appointment list, and I gave her the day off."

"Why would–"

"Because!" Sakura yells, her fists tightening at her sides. "Because you're so damn dense!" She takes a deep breath and starts again, calmer this time. "I've been trying to get your attention for over a year now, ever since that undercover mission we had in Kusa. I thought we had a moment, you know? But then we got back to Konoha and you never... I thought maybe you were just worried about my age or our former teacher-student relationship or something.

"The point is that I couldn't let it go, not without at least trying. So whenever I would see you, I'd try to strike up a conversation. But you'd always have your nose in some damn book. Do you know how many one-sided conversations we've had?"

He starts to answer, but she holds up a hand and continues. "It was a hypothetical, idiot. Anyway, I remembered that I saw you once at Yamada's shop, so I asked the old man about you. He said that you were a regular on Friday nights, so I made sure to be there every Friday that I wasn't out on a mission or scheduled for a shift. But did you notice? Of course not."

"But–"

"But nothing, Kakashi." Crossing her arms, Sakura levels a challenging stare at him. "This is embarrassing as hell to admit. Not to mention that this is shaping up to be the worst Valentine's Day in the history of my pathetic life – and that's even counting the one I spent in the ER being puked on during the stomach virus outbreak two years ago – so the least you could do is shut the hell up and let me finish making a fool of myself. Okay?"

He nods. It's the best he can do right now. His heart pumps in and out at a frantic pace, excited by the possibilities running through the conversation.

_Another one-sided conversation_, he chastises himself. But not for long; soon he'd have Sakura's mouth otherwise occupied.

Kakashi doesn't dwell on that, though. He is too busy connecting the dots. Sakura is interested in him, legitimately fucking interested in him, and that bit of information is a game-changer.

He has spent the past thirteen days warring with himself. Between the guilt over his attraction to her – _because it made him little more than a dirty old man, right?_ – and his anger at her for screwing with his head – _the little vixen played him like a fiddle; didn't their history count for anything?_ – Kakashi has been a mess. He spends his mornings jacking off in the shower to dreams of pink and green, all while counting the ways that the situation is so very wrong, and his nights hoping that his dreams will feature those same colors that he curses when he wakes. But despite all of his fantasies and bouts of self-loathing, he has never once considered that she could want something from him, that this could be mutual. He finds himself suddenly overwhelmed with images and thoughts of what could be – of a shared life and intimacies, both physical and emotional, built on top of this very moment – and it is very appealing to him.

Maybe it's his age catching up to him, a biological mechanism compelling him to settle down. Or perhaps it's just that he's finally found someone who maybe, just maybe, is worth going through all that relationship shit for. Maybe–

"–out of options, so I finally broke down and went to Ino for advice. She said, and I quote, that you were _denser than chakra hardened granite when it came to women_ and that I should try a hands-on approach. I wasn't going to. Really, I fucking wasn't, okay? But then the opportunity was practically dropped into my lap, and the mood felt right, so I… well, I went for it. Okay? I went for it. And you didn't seem to mind. I mean, at least I didn't think so, not with that reaction. I thought you had finally noticed me. But then…"

Sakura breathes heavily, her chest rising and falling, and even though he can't see it in the dark, he's sure that there's a blush dusting the whole of her skin. With that, Kakashi is done. He gets it anyway, what she's trying to say – _what she's apparently been trying to say for months now _– so there's very little need left for talk. There are other, more pleasurable ways to bring her to this same physical state. If that's what she wants, of course.

_It's time to test the waters_, he decides.

"Sakura," he leans in close, using his larger frame to his full advantage, and lowers his voice to a rumble, "are you saying that this has all been a ploy to gain my romantic attentions?"

"Well, y-yes," she stutters, briefly taken off guard by his change in demeanor. But then she squares her chin, puffs out her chest, and plunges right on. "Yes, I am. But tonight you couldn't even fathom the possibility that someone would think to set us up, let alone that they were actively trying, so it's obvious that I'm wasting my–"

Kakashi curls an arm around the small of her back, pressing her firmly into his body, and shuts her up with his mouth. After releasing a hushed gasp, she responds readily into the fabric, her lips conforming to the impression of his through his mask. But it's not enough. She smells so damn good. He just wants to taste her – _wants to nip at her lips and find her tongue and see if she is as sweet as he suspects _– so he breaks contact and pulls down the offending cloth. Before he can recapture her lips, she beats him to the punch.

Her kiss is forceful, needy, and he relishes in it. There is no hesitancy or timidity in her actions, just the desires of a grown woman. Sakura sucks his lower lip into her mouth, letting her teeth scrape roughly across his skin. Kakashi groans and moves his free hand to the nape of her neck, adjusting the angle of their convergence for a better connection. His tongue swipes over the seam of her lips, and she softly laughs against his mouth.

"So, I was right after all? About your reaction to me the other day?" she asks, a suggestive uplift of her brow emphasizing her choice of phrasing.

"Hell, yes," he growls in reply. Then he moves his hands to grip Sakura's hips, reducing the space between them to nothing. "You've no idea the extent of my reaction towards you."

"So, I've spent the past thirteen days in doubt for no reason?"

"Yeah, well, I've spent the past thirteen days wondering whether I dreamed the whole thing up or whether you were just trying to get a rise out of your old sensei." Kakashi leans to whisper his confession in her ear. "I never thought that you could actually be interested."

The next thing he feels is a throbbing pain in his left shoulder. It takes a couple seconds to clear his head and realize that she has hit him.

"You idiot!" Sakura roars. "You dense, lazy, unreliable idiot! I've been practically throwing myself at you for months!" But as suddenly as her ire comes, it leaves. She looks up at him and sighs with an excess of fake dramatics, throwing her hands in the air. "I give up. You obviously can't take a hint. Or twenty. I'm just going to have to spell everything out for you from now on, aren't I?"

"I think that would be for the best," Kakashi replies with a smirk.

"Good. We're finally on the same page then." Sakura's expression changes to mirror his, a cheeky little grin. Then she grabs him by the front of his shirt, roughly pulling him down to her level. "Would you like to come over to my place?"

"I don't know. I'm a bit dense, after all," Kakashi says, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. "Could you tell me exactly what we would be doing there?"

Her grin widens, curling wickedly around her mouth, as she slides her hands over his shoulders to lace behind his neck. Sakura raises onto her tiptoes and breathes against the shell of his ear. "Well, I thought that you could use a more thorough check-up. Just to make sure everything is functioning properly. Medic's orders."

"Hmm, still a bit vague. Do you mean–"

"What I mean is that," Sakura trails one hand slowly down his chest and abs, marking her path with the pointed edge of a single fingertip, and cups his hardening cock through his trousers, "I am going to impale myself on your erect penis and see how long it takes for me to make you cum. Blunt enough for you?"

Sakura doesn't wait for him to answer. She just sidesteps around him, patting his cheek, and walks back out onto the street. She stops under the pale glow of a red lantern, half-turned towards him. Her arm extends his direction and a finger – _the same one that had just scorched its way down his body_ – motions for him to follow.

Kakashi is quick to obey, after placing a hasty genjutsu over his tented crotch. He purposely lingers a couple steps behind so he can watch the sway of her hips and the bounce of her pert ass as she leads him away.

**.oOo.**

Sakura unlocks her door and goes inside first, leaving Kakashi to shut it behind him. The walk has given him time to cool his head, though it has done nothing for the stiffness in his pants, and he has to admit that he is a little nervous. This had seemed like such a good idea twenty minutes ago when she was in his arms and whispering naughty suggestions in his ear, but now he is not so sure. Now he is standing in his former student's apartment intending to fuck her into the mattress - _or floor, or couch, or whatever solid surface she most prefers _– for the remainder of the night. Oh, and maybe they'll continue the next morning. He's not sure; he hasn't thought that far ahead.

_I'm really going to fuck my former student_, he thinks. _Fuck_.

"Come on, Kakashi, don't wuss out on me now." Sakura grins from the other side of the room, her heels dangling from one finger. "I was going to get a bit more comfortable, but I wasn't sure how much I should take off myself. I'd feel bad if I deprived you of anything you were looking forward to."

Damn, that is the sexiest thing that Kakashi thinks he has ever heard. It spurs him into action. He strides over to her, stripping off his mask and hitae-ite as he goes, not caring where they land. Gathering her face in his palms, he kisses her. It's hot and urgent, but not dominating – _as if anyone could control Sakura unless she wanted them to_ – and full of a hope that he is just discovering that he has. In his periphery, he sees her shoes drop to the floor as Sakura's arms move to wrap around his neck.

His lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen, so he pulls away. The heaving of Sakura's chest makes him think that she is just as affected as he is. They both breathe in heavily, panting in near unison, and Kakashi toys with the thin straps of her dress. The material stretches under his fingers, then goes taut, vibrating like the string of an instrument. It makes him want to pluck them and watch them snap. But if he did that, Sakura might decide to permanently harm him – _he's not sure how partial she is to the dress_ – so he controls that particular urge.

Still, he wants to relieve her of the unnecessary burden of clothing. Kakashi takes a moment to catch her attention, raising an eyebrow in question. Sakura nods and fiercely reclaims his lips, her fingers drawing patterns on his back. He sighs contentedly into her mouth, her rhythmic motions calming what is left of his doubts. Then he remembers his dream, that very first one, and how much the desire to taste her skin had overwhelmed him. He kisses the corner of her mouth and paints a path with his lips and tongue to the underside of her jaw, sucking gently on her pulse point when he reaches that first destination.

His mouth continues to journey down the lean lines of her neck, stopping only when he gets to the edge of her dress. Kakashi slips it to the side, just enough to expose the next patch of skin for his lips. His teeth close carefully around the flimsy strap, tugging it slowly down. He then kisses his way across her collar, paying particular attention to the hollow at the base of her throat, and pulls the other strap down. Sakura moans softly as the dress starts to drop, and she takes a small step back so that it can slide to the ground unimpeded.

It's Kakashi's turn to moan. She is a fucking vision, clothed in nothing but tiny red lace panties and the pins in her hair. He wants to explore it all, every lovely inch of her, but he doesn't know where to begin. Sakura makes up his mind for him, placing his hands on her breasts and squeezing. Fuck, she feels so right under his hands, the hard pebbles of her nipples and the soft weight of her flesh. He readjusts, placing one hand on the small of her back to coax out the curve of her spine. Kakashi takes one of her breasts into his mouth, suckling and nibbling gently, and her head lolls back. Releasing the suction with a small pop, he gives his attention to the other one. Sakura keens and begins to roll her hips into his, forcing him to hiss sharply at the pleasurable contact.

Suddenly, Kakashi has had enough of the foreplay. He desperately needs Sakura – _needs to be buried inside her_ – so he steps forward until her back hits the obstruction behind her. This is how he wants her, Kakashi realizes. To take her hard against the wall – the position that he had been aiming for in his dream. But Sakura's hands are slipping underneath his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. The contact reminds him that he's not the only one who has needs and, dammit, rushing things will only satisfy him. He wants better than that for her.

_He wants to give her the best fucking night of her life._

Kakashi kneels in front of her, pressing his forehead into the flat of her stomach. His hand runs over her underwear, tracing the line in the fabric that covers the opening of her pussy. Dampness coats his fingertips in a light sheen, and he licks off the evidence of her arousal, leaning back on his haunches so that she can see him clearly. Her breath hitches, and he can feel it vibrate the air around them.

But it's not enough, that tiny little taste. Sakura's so damn delicious – _the perfect combination of sweet and savory_ – and he has to have more. Kakashi briefly contemplates removing the last of her clothing – _it'll make things easier for him without it in the way _– but decides against it. The idea of sliding his cock into Sakura while holding her panties to the side, of the edge of them rubbing against him as he moves, is something he wants to become a reality too much. Instead, he lifts one of her legs over his shoulder, spreading her out in front of him.

_She's so fucking wet._

Sakura shivers and arches her back, pushing herself closer to him. Then she hooks a finger into the red lace, pressing it into her inner thigh. Her initiative surprises him, and he rewards her efforts with a drawn-out swipe of his tongue.

"Oh, Kami," she softly exclaims.

Kakashi returns for another pass, this time applying more pressure. Sakura bucks and moans and, dammit, she's so beautiful like that. He begins to delve deeper, separating her seam with his fingers so he can lap at her, curling his tongue in and out at an increasing pace. Her legs start to quiver, so he hoists up her other leg, all her weight now supported by his broad shoulders. His fingers join his mouth, pumping into her gently, yet firmly. Sakura grips the back of his head, her nails digging into his scalp, and her hips move to match the rhythm of his fingers.

"Oh, don't stop, Kakashi," she begs between panting breaths. "I'm almost there. Almost… fuck, oh, _fuck_!"

The orgasm hits her hard, clenching around the fingers he still has inside her. Kakashi lets her ride it out before removing them. He plants a pair of soft, caressing kisses on her inner thighs as she comes down from her endorphin high. When he's sure she's ready to support herself, he places her feet back on the floor and stands up. Sakura pulls him in for a kiss, not caring that her arousal is still on his lips.

"That was," she kisses him again, and her breasts press into the bare skin of his chest, "amazing."

"I try."

She smacks him lightly across the shoulder. He winces – _it's the one she hit earlier_ – and she laughs into his mouth as she kisses him yet again. Not that Kakashi is complaining. Really, her lips are absolutely delectable. It's just that other parts of his body are starting to demand attention.

"Well, now it's my turn to impress," she retorts, a devilish glint in her eye.

In but a few seconds, his trousers and underwear join her dress on the floor. Sakura wraps her hand around the base of his cock and gives it an experimental squeeze. His head falls forward, bracing on her shoulder.

"More," Kakashi whispers into her neck.

This time she gives it a couple quick tugs and he nearly buckles. He's so fucking sensitive, so aroused, that it is almost painful. Sakura changes her tactics, slowing the up and down movement her hand and increasing her grip. It feels so damn good. But it's also heaven and hell, all at once. The pressure is building up – _in pleasure or pain, he can't even tell anymore_ – and he needs it to just give already. But dammit, Kakashi doesn't want to cum on her hand. He wants to–

"Wait, Sakura," he forces out, teeth gritted tightly. "Wait."

Sakura stops her motions, but she keeps her hand firmly on his cock. Smiling sweetly, she asks, "Yes, what is it?"

Kakashi doesn't say anything at first, just leans forward, pressing his erection into the juncture of her thighs. They both groan at the friction, and she finally removes her hand. He rolls his hips into her one more time before speaking. "I'm pretty sure you know exactly what, Sakura."

"Oh," she lifts her leg over his hip, grinding herself into his hardness, "that you won't hold out much longer if I keep stroking your dick? Or that all you want is to fuck me against this wall?"

There is something in this flow of their banter that takes his mind out of the here and now. Instead, Kakashi is in the past, watching a girl on the cusp of womanhood laugh over a meal with friends. He's thinking about her smile – _and how he hopes she never loses it_ – when she surprises him with intuitiveness beyond her years. That was five years ago, maybe just a bit more, and though the context is much different, she's doing the same thing now.

"Dammit, woman, how do you do that?"

Confusion ruins her expression, twisting her smirk into a slight frown. "How do I do what?"

"Know exactly what I'm thinking."

Her green eyes widen in surprise, and then, after a moment, her smirk is back in full force. "There's a lot of theories around Konoha about why you wear the mask, you know. But the thing is, I'm the only one who knows the truth." Sakura gestures for him to come closer, as if she's imparting a great secret, and then she cups her hand around his ear. "You're way too easy to read."

She takes advantage of the moment he uses to process her words, pulling her other leg over his hip and crossing her feet behind his back. The feel of her, even though the lace, is intoxicating. Heat radiates off of every inch of her skin. But it is at its most intense where their hips brush together, in spite of the gathering wetness there. He reaches between them, yanking the cloth to the side, and feels a great satisfaction. All that's left is for him to plunge inside her, and all his most prevalent fantasies will be fulfilled. Kakashi shifts his hips and lines up the head of his cock at her entrance. He lets himself sink in, a mere half-inch, and then waits, biting his lip to hold back the curse at the tip of his tongue.

_Fuck, even just that much feels fantastic._

"Sakura," he says, on the verge of losing control. He wants to, wants to so badly, but there's one last thing holding him back. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

"Why, are you?" she counters with a breathless giggle.

Sakura flexes her beautiful legs around his middle and sinks down on top of him, burying his cock deep inside her. For a moment, maybe a second or two, they are both still, wide eyes staring back at each other. Her pussy is perfection, all liquid heat and wonderfully tight. He's lost in the moment, the connection, when she chooses to bridge the gap between – _she's always doing that, it seems _– and tenderly kisses his cheek. Her lips move to his mouth, lightly pecking their way across his skin. This time her kiss is warm, a languid exploration gradually building to a passionate tangle of him and her and all that bind them.

Kakashi pulls out of her and then thrusts forward, slow but firm, matching his rhythm to cadence of her kisses. It takes every last ounce of his self-control, but it is worth it to hear the way his name sounds when her sweet voice sings it out. Sweat slicks their bodies, and he has to tighten his grip on her legs to keep them steady. Eventually, even that is not enough, so he digs his fingers into the firm flesh of her ass. All the while, Kakashi pounds into her harder and faster with each consecutive thrust. Sakura curls her hips into him, pushing and gyrating with abandon. Her mewls take on a desperate pitch, and he feels her walls start to constrict. It's almost more than he can take. His movements become erratic as he nears his own orgasm and–

"Shit," Kakashi growls, realizing that they forgot something that was possibly very important to this moment. "Are you on something?"

"What the hell?" she growls right back.

"Birth control."

"Of course, I am! Medic, remember?" she shouts, digging her heels sharply into his flanks. The action makes them both gasp as it drives him even deeper. "_Fuck_. Kakashi, harder, dammit!"

Kakashi is more than happy to comply, his previous panic pulling him back from the edge just enough regain control. He pulls her away from the wall, counting on only his strength to support her. With this change, her own weight can be used as leverage, and Sakura uses it to its full advantage. She grips his shoulders, bracing herself as she grinds enthusiastically onto his cock with every upward thrust. His knees weaken from the intensity of the sensation, and Kakashi drops to the floor, taking Sakura with him. They land with her on top.

"I told you, didn't I?" she asks, panting. "I said I'd impale myself on your dick and see how long it took for you to cum. I'm a woman of my word."

Kakashi moans as she begins to ride him. "I'll never doubt you again."

"Good." Sakura trails a hand down her body, slowly, as if she's putting herself on display for him. The action is in direct contrast to the increasing momentum of her hips. When her hand reaches the apex of their connection, she looks at him and grins wickedly. Her fingers tease her clit, and once again, he can feel the vibrations signaling the beginning of her orgasm. "Now cum for me, Kakashi."

It's the need in her voice that undoes him. Kakashi flips them over, and instinct takes over. He pounds into her relentlessly, his balls slapping against the firmness of her ass. Sakura calls out his name, begs for release in snippets of barely coherent speech, and he relishes in her vocality. Her climax overtakes her hard and fast, and Kakashi continues to fuck her through it. When her orgasm reaches its peak, Sakura pulls his lips to hers and locks her legs around his middle. Kakashi cums mid-kiss, his hot seed spurting inside of her as his thrusts shallow. He allows himself to soften completely before he pulls out, not wanting to break the connection. Even now, with his semen running down her thighs, the doubt creeps in.

_Will she still want him?_

Kakashi lifts himself off her, shifting to rest on his side, and waits.

Sakura rolls into him and tucks her head under his chin, absently rubbing his chest. "Kakashi?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to stay?"

"I couldn't leave even if I wanted to," he answers, relief flooding through his system. He moves his arms to wrap loosely around Sakura's back. "You've exhausted me, woman."

"Do you need me to carry you to bed?"

"Funny," Kakashi drawls. Then he scoops her up, eliciting a round of high-pitched laughter, and lugs her to the bedroom. The mattress creaks when he flops her onto it, and Sakura bounces gently before settling into the pillows and comforter. He readies himself to join her, one knee resting on the corner of the bed, but he stops himself. "Dammit."

"What?" She looks at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't get to mess up your hair."

Sakura sits up abruptly and her hands land on her head to investigate, just to discover that he was right. "Well, dammit, Kakashi, you fucked up. I expected to be thoroughly ravished." She smirks up at him, a pink eyebrow raised in challenge. "You're going to have to try again. This half-assed job just won't do."

"Yeah, I suppose," he concedes, crawling into the bed next to her and pulling her back against his chest. "But can it wait until tomorrow?"

"Fine," she huffs, but the contentment in her eyes says she doesn't really mind. "Lazy ass."

"Speaking of asses, I think you bruised mine."

"Oh, shut up and get some sleep, old man," Sakura murmurs.

**{ 1843 days after the Fourth Shinobi War }**

Kakashi awakes to the sound of someone humming terribly off-key. He groans and rolls over onto his stomach, burying his head under his pillow. Something is different though – _the sheets are too soft, and the pillow is too full_ – and he realizes that he is not in his own home. The memories of his activities last night slowly come back into focus. Just the thought of it sends the blood straight down, resulting in a near-instantaneous erection.

Kakashi braves a look around. Sakura is no longer in bed with him, nor is she in the bedroom. Through the open door, he can see her flitting about her kitchen, making a racket doing who knows what. Today she is wearing that red dress, or at least one very similar, and his reaction to it is much the same as it had been at the clinic. He decides to get up – _there's no reason to stay in bed, not unless she's there, too_ – and see exactly what the hell she's up to. Hopefully, he'll be able to convince her to drop whatever it is, at least for long enough to make good on his promise of a proper ravishing. He rummages around for his boxers, unsure of where they had ended up in all the action, but finds them neatly folded on her dresser. Watching her as he slips them on, he's pleased to note that she has her hair pulled up. Not as intricate as the night before, but there's definitely something there for him to work with.

Kakashi pads stealthily across the floor. He reaches her before she even realizes he's awake and wraps his arms around her from behind. Kissing the exposed skin behind her ear causes her to gasp and smack playfully at his hands, but he doesn't stop. Sakura smells delicious, and tasting her is quickly becoming his favorite thing to do.

_Damn_, he thinks, _I think I might be falling for her_.

"Good morning," she says cheerily.

"Morning." He hums as he bites on the soft flesh of her earlobe.

"So," Sakura says, "I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch with me. I thought we could go to Yamada's since neither of us actually got to have any last night. What do you think?"

Kakashi spins her around and backs her into the counter. His arms lean on the edge, one on either side of her, boxing her in. Sakura frowns and he can't help but cover it with a smile of his own. He makes sure to give every inch of her lips his attention. The kiss is affectionate – _playful nips and sly little slips of the tongue_ – and soon he can feel her smile back.

Kakashi relinquishes her mouth then and, resting his forehead against hers, he speaks. "Sakura, I would eat there every morning for the rest of my life if I could have my meal with you."

Her face freezes in shock, brows knit tightly and her mouth slightly open. Emotions flash across her face, more rapidly than Kakashi thought was humanly possible. Eventually, she settles on one, and though he can't name it, Kakashi knows it's a positive one.

"You really like okonomiyaki, huh?"

"We should get going." He ignores her question, though it means his plans for a morning romp will go unfulfilled. He's just not quite ready to answer it. "I owe Iruka one, don't I?"

Sakura glares up at him, apparently unpleased. "But I told you, he doesn't even like it."

"I know." Kakashi releases her so that he can finish dressing. As he puts his clothes on, he levels a glare right back at her. "It's the best his meddling ass is going to get."

"Even though everything turned out so well?"

"Especially because it turned out so well. If we let Iruka off the hook this time, he'll be planning our whole lives for us." Kakashi opens the door as she grabs her purse. "Is that what you really want?"

Sakura twirls her small handbag around by its strap, then with a quick flick of her wrist, she catches it and tucks it under her arm. She's scheming inside that head of hers; he can see it in the tilt of her lips.

"In that case, we just have to order him a double."

**.oOo.**

As they approach the shop, Sakura suddenly places a hand on his arm, stopping him from opening the door. "Wait, you never answered my question."

"What question?" he asks innocently.

She stomps her foot. "You know what question."

"But I'm an old man and dense. You can't honestly expect me to–"

"You. Really. Like. Okonomiyaki. Huh."

The words are precisely the same as before, but her delivery is entirely different. Kakashi shakes his head and laughs out loud for the first time in what feels like years. Sakura is confused and perhaps a little angry by his reaction, he can tell. So he kisses her again, just a light peck on her lips. She softens, and Kakashi takes her by the hand, leading her towards the door.

"You have no idea."


End file.
